


Stardust

by Bellatrix_Winchester (Keterina_Porpentina_Albus_Everdeen)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Sam Winchester-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-05 17:15:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18370514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keterina_Porpentina_Albus_Everdeen/pseuds/Bellatrix_Winchester
Summary: You volunteer at an NGO which teaches kids how to paint. Artists from the neighborhood send their kids and one of them is Ben Braeden. His uncle Sam visits a convention at your workplace where all of the volunteers, including you, have to recreate classic masterpieces like "The Mona Lisa."Which one do you paint?How was your journey as a curious nerdy weirdo?How did you bond with Sam over your mutual interest for Art?





	Stardust

The alarm clock went off exactly at 5 in the morning, when I set it.

"How dare you!" I grumbled and hit the snooze button. I was in my pajamas obviously, irritated at the moment because today, I just knew that it was going to be a stressful day. 

The second time it went off was enough to make me alarmed (pun intended) and I reluctantly started to brush my teeth. I kept a bit of spaghetti last night, which I microwaved in the morning. A pot of coffee packed inside my flask and I was good to go.

I watched the sunrise from the bus stop and lazily grinned at my neighbor's dog. 

"Heya bonesy!" I yelled and waved.

Just then my bus came and I got up, immediately pulling my earplugs out and playing my favorite song on it.

* * *

This NGO I worked in, supported blooming artists who didn't have enough experience about painting. I helped the kids draw, gave them ideas if they asked for it and overall spent my time in a cultural environment.

There was a library upstairs if I ever wanted to consult books written by famous painters and artists. My eyes always caught in the _Van Gogh_ section, " **The artist's way** " by _Julia Cameron_ and of course, " **A Treatise on Painting** " by _Leonardo Da Vinci_ himself.

Today my hands skimmed over the books that taught the beginners how to paint, since today was like no other. Ms. Clarke's words still send shivers down my spine.

" _All the volunteers are encouraged and earnestly requested to paint themselves for tomorrow'' parent's convention. All the parents of these kids will come to watch how talented our volunteers are, even without any formal training in art. Thank you._ "

Translation: Whoever thought that you're getting away tomorrow from making fool's of yourselves, thought wrong.

I was way in over my head, I thought, shaking my head, picked up a beginner's guide by someone.

My favorite paintings included the starry night, the last supper, Madonna of the rocks, the girl with the Pearl earrings, the persistence of memory, the birth of Venus, Portrait of Madame Recamier, Cafe Terrace at Night etc.

Gosh I must sound so cliche right now.

Well, in all fairness, abstracts are not my thing. So I only remember the paintings that speak to me, which are beautiful, mysterious but not impossible to analyse with help. I have had help. Here, people help me understand and satisfy my curiosity.

 I have asked people to describe and make me understand "composition 8", an abstract yet beautiful painting that attracted my attention. I'm still struggling to understand that one.

My colleague comes up to me now, so I put my book down. She is a really sweet woman, with a bright smile and true compassion for our line of work, "hey Y/N! Excited or nervous? "

"Terrified"  I reply with a sigh.

She nods, " I know what you mean. I've been researching "Whistler's mother" all night, I'm gonna recreate that today. Wish me luck! "

I wish her luck and she walks away, leaving me in peace again. 

I knew which painting I was gonna try and recreate, and it scared the shit out of me.

* * *

As I took the canvas from the hands of my boss, he gave me an almost sympathetic smile. Knowing how anxious I get about painting in front of people, he was probably wondering why I even showed up.

It was simple. I loved painting, even if it was trash. I could have joined any NGO, where I only had to read books aloud or do chores. But art always calls to me, even though my stupid head can't get the strokes and endless styles right, I do try. So, here I am.

The place was not as crowded as I dreaded. There were parents of kids, brothers and sisters of the members who came to watch and support, some of our members were not even kids, they were my age too. So, friends of a few people also got the pass tickets to watch us fail miserably at painting.

* * *

I chose my paintbrush wisely and start stroking on the empty canvas. As suggested in the book, I already outlined the subjects of my painting. A few people who passed by my canvas let out a slight gasp, as if to say, "damn, are you sure you can recreate this masterpiece?" 

Geez come down, it ain't Mona Lisa.

My outlined subjects do look pretty accurate, if there was one thing I was good at, it was imitating. I did doodle this piece last night once, however the challenge was truly giving it the essence like  _Diego Velázquez,_ after all, _Picasso himself recreated this painting 58 times!_

"Ugh, this sucks so hard!" I groan at myself.

"Actually", came the voice of a male siren, " I think you are doing an amazing job."

I look up to see the most gorgeous man you have ever laid your earthly eyes on. He has dimples when he smiles, and I'm sure because he is smiling at me, with the most beautiful and tender eyes possible.

"Thank you, Mr..?"

"Winchester. You can call me Sam", he takes my hand.

Damn! Arm porn. His shirt sleeves were folded up to his elbow and he has large and sexy hands, I can't even concentrate on painting any longer.

"I'm Y/N." I tell him and smile back, trying not to look like I was imagining him shirtless a while back.

"So", Sam muses and gazes adoringly at my canvas, and I feel like he is seeing my soul naked. I feel vulnerable to show my half finished painting like that, but he doesn't invade. Only approves.

"Las meninas? That's an unusual choice." He comments.

I nod and sigh, " I know, what was I thinking, right? It's such a masterpiece and I should have just picked that stupid portrait of Henry VIII."

Sam chuckles at me.

" No offence", I quickly add. It might be overrated but still a great painting, considering.

"No I agree. This is difficult, challenging and mysterious in it's aura. Is that why you chose this one?" He seemed to know a bit himself about paintings.

I nod, "Yes actually, I find this piece fascinating. Even before I knew it's history, I randomly stumbled upon it in a book and the technique just threw me off. I mean, the people in it! So alive and so complex. The illusion it sets, the way it shows the Spanish golden age, ugh!" 

Then my eyes fell on him and I stop my talking, "sorry I'm rambling. I have the bad habit of fangirling over stuff..."

He was listening intently before, his hazel/bluish green eyes looking right into mine, and with my comment, he smiles gently, "I find it endearing." 

I blink at him and back at the painting, unsure of what to say, a blush was threatening to creep up my cheeks.

It was a relief when he said, "I am gonna go over and watch my nephew for a bit if you don't mind, it was very nice to meet you Y/N."

I smile and nod, understanding . I was kind of happy that he didn't have a kid. Why exactly, no idea. Was I hoping for him to be single? Yup.

He walks away and I try to shake his image out of my mind.

* * *

 

Once the painting seems to be complete and I feel like there's nothing else I could possibly do, I look up fro the canvas after what feels like hours. I see him talking to his nephew in a soft voice, the kind that just melts your heart.

Of course the gorgeous stranger is sweetly talking to a child in a convention where everybody knows me as a weirdo. 

I stare for a few more seconds, but as I start looking away, his eyes shoot up at mine and holds my gaze. I can't even look away when he walks over at me. Then he takes mercy on me and shifts his gaze to my canvas.

I take a deep breathe.

"That looks perfect." He smiles at me.

I nervously chuckle, " For an amateur you mean", earning a soft smile and the show of those beautiful dimples from Sam.

"So, how long have you volunteered here?" He asks as we both start walking towards the food stall. He buys me waffles even when I protest and try to pay, and sweetly asks about my life, but I refuse to believe that he could be interested.

"What about you?" I ask at one point, reluctant to talk about my plain habits any longer.

He ducks his head and says, "oh well, I'm just a mechanic now. I used to study at Stanford but life happened. Then along with bad stuff, a really good thing happened to me, my nephew, Ben." He gestures towards the kid who happily waved at us.

I grin at him and nod, "He is truly amazing, pretty talented too. I'm guessing uncle Sam has taught him a lot of stuff from his local history knowledge?"

 

 Sam looked absolutely mortified when I said that.

"How could you possibly.." he started.

"Relax, I'm not some creepy stalker. Ben is just a casual 12 year old local history buff and it's clear that Dean isn't the one who taught him about the civil war casualties and strategies. Although, the old west part and Clint Eastwood lines.."

Sam laughs, " _That_ is all Dean, I assure you. So, you have talked to Ben before huh? You two know each other. "

I nod and take a sip from my cola can. He looks at Ben and then back at me, thinking something to himself. 

Then he asks me, "how would you like to come to Ben's birthday party this Friday? I mean, of course if you're free and if you feel comfortable... "

It is so adorable to look his hugely tall and immensely confident man, suddenly stutter like a goofy kid.

"I would love to, thank you Sam. Actually Ben has been over the moon about the party this week. He told me yesterday that you wrapped thirteen gifts for him? " I ask. 

He nods and blushes a little, " Yeah, one for each year. He is gonna be 13 years old now. They are all surprises."

I wink at him, " Oh come on then, spill one or two. I swear I won't tell him. What did you get him?"

His blush becomes redder and I suddenly feel very satisfied, "Umm, don't tell him this but he wanted the album "leftoverture" for a long time now, so I bought him a DVD. "

I was surprised, " Kansas? That has to be all Dean. You don't seem like a metal kinda guy."

Sam shrugs, "I don't mind rock but not pure metal as such. Not all the time anyway. So yeah, he gets it from Dean. "

We talk all through our break to before I have to go and show my painting. It's overwhelming when people start clapping after seeing my recreation of Las Meninas. Sam claps loudly and I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks.

The whole presentation goes amazing as I am surrounded by talented people. Someone has recreated the Mona Lisa, that part was predictable. What wasn't expected was how great the recreation looked. I even saw "homecoming hero" by Thomas Kinkade and the technique made me shudder, it's so beautiful and precise, I wanna cry actually. 

I was feeling pretty emotional, surrounded by art and artists, so I didn't notice Sam walk towards me. He places a hand on my shoulder and I jump backwards.

"Sorry!", Sam says, embarrassed. 

"No no it's okay. I was just in a zone." I smile and try to control my blush at his touch.

Sam nods, "I know what you mean. It's overwhelming and honestly heartbreaking, but I don't know why exactly I feel so emotional, around all this art."

I quickly hide my face and wipe a fresh tear, " It's all so ancient, yet new. They should never be forgotten you know, and it breaks my heart to imagine a time, when people have forgotten who Michaelangelo was, what "the Vitruvian man" should look like. They are timeless and they should remain so. "

Sam softly smiles and gently brushes his knuckles against my shoulders. A friendly gesture, but I didn't react the way I was supposed to.

I was full on staring, speechless, it was like staring into the Sun.

How can anyone be so stunning?

He looks around his shoulder and panics, "Do I have dandruff or something? "

I giggle and shake my head, "Stardust."

He just gives me the biggest smile, along with the cutest blush.


End file.
